


First

by ca_te



Category: Death Note
Genre: M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-09-05
Updated: 2010-09-05
Packaged: 2017-10-11 12:11:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,315
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/112265
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ca_te/pseuds/ca_te
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>How Matt's relationship with Mello has grown since the first day of the redhead at Wammy's.</p>
            </blockquote>





	First

**Author's Note:**

> Written on 13th June 2009.

It was a rainy day. It was November. Matt doesn't remember if it was a Sunday or a Monday, but he remembers the light. It was the light of abandon. Matt had followed a man with glasses and white hair inside the building. The place it self gave him the idea of cold. He listened to the echoes of voices and laughs passing along the corridors and the halls. They had come to pick him up, well the man with the glasses, he had smiled at him and gently took his hand. Matt knew how it was like to change home, he was seven and he already had changed almost three orphanages. That was the reason he took the hand of a stranger again. He knew almost nothing would have changed, just the faces of the ones who were going to laugh at him and beat him up. So he followed the man, till his new room, till his new small cage. But Matt didn't mind being in a cage, he didn't mind anything as long as he could stay on his own. Matt loved the little, scrambled world his mind had created, a bubble with nothing more than him and his games inside. It had always kept the memories and the others away.

Matt stopped at the door and took a look at the room inside. There were two beds, two tables, and a boy was sitting at one of them. He was blond. He didn't lift his gaze. Matt was scared. Still, he remained silent. The man with the glasses closed the door behind him. Matt looked at his feet. There was the sound of a pen scribbling on paper, there was the sound of his room mate breath.

\- Hey!

Matt turned, keeping his gaze on the floor. The blond's feet were bare, the skin was almost milky.

Matt remained silent, as if a candy had remained stuck in his throat. Matt liked candy. Matt had eaten few of them in his life.

\- I'm talking to you, are you stupid, or what?

Matt swallowed and lifted his eyes. The blond was looking at him, his elbows on the back of the chair.

\- What's your name?

Matt desired not to talk, but then he saw the blond quirking a thin eyebrow, it was so blond it almost seemed white, over the azure of his iris. Matt felt cold.

\- M-my name is Matt.

"Matt" it didn't sound so bad in the end. It wasn't like if he had ever been attached to his real name. The blond was the first one to hear him pronouncing it.

\- Mine is Mello. Now be quite.

Matt tilted his head to the side, watching at the blond's back. Matt let the other's name forming again and again in his mind. It seemed to him like the name of a candy. In silence he looked at the beds.

\- Mine is the one of the left.

Matt eyed the crucifix hanging over the bed. He thought of the one hanging over his mother's bed, in the only room of their house.

He sat on his own bed and watched the rain falling in the afternoon outside.

\- Are you going to sit there and do nothing? God, you are irritating!

Matt looked at his hands. In silence he took his old gameboy out of the bag. He pressed the "start" button. A sloppy music filled the room.

\- Turn the audio off, dammit!

Matt flinched, he still couldn't understand if he liked to hear Mello talking to him. Somehow his high pitched voice was cracking his bubble. Matt looked at the screen, his character failing and failing. He was leaning on the bed, the sounds of the pen and of the paper filling his ears. He felt like he wanted to sleep, still he knew he couldn't. It had always been like that, the first night in a new place was a sleepless night. Still Matt could feel something relaxing inside of his belly, like ice melting. He closed his eyes.

 

Mello closed his notebook and turned. He looked at the boy sleeping on the bed. He knew he should feel irritated by him, he was an intruder after all, yet there was something so sadly peaceful about him. Mello sat on his bed, under the tiny crucifix, and observed Matt's chest rising and falling, his read hair on the pillow. Mello though that kind of red was both the red of apples and the red of the fire.

He looked at the crucifix and then at the evening's sky. Mello didn't like to change. He wanted to be able to be like Near, to be just constant and steady. Yet he was smart and he knew it wouldn't be possible for him.

 

Matt woke up with a pale hand and shining blond hair shaking him. He was scared again.

\- Hey, get up or you won't have dinner.

Matt blinked, trying to remember where he was, the ceiling was white and the blond boy's fingers were warm.

\- M-Mello?

\- Who the hell do you think it is, idiot!

Mello's voice was sharp, Matt liked the way it cut right through the bubble and fell into his ears.

He sat on the bed, Mello still standing there at his side. He wondered why he hadn't left him there and gone to eat on his own.

Matt followed Mello along the corridors, down the stairs, focusing his attention on his small back clad in black.

 

And it was like that. Naturally. He began to follow him, he got used to Mello's sharp tongue, to the way he could insult someone and then few minutes later chant some prayers, his pale eyelids covering his eyes. Once Matt had asked Mello why he prayed. Mello answered that it was because God was great and was looking over them. Matt shook his head in silence, but didn't feel like he had the right to shutter Mello's hopes. He got used to the way Mello ate his chocolate bars and always left a square for him in the end. He got used to Mello's constant rambling about Near, and since the beginning he chose to be the third, the one whom the blond could thrust.

They grew up around each other. And Matt got slowly stronger, he bought a pair of goggles, he learnt how to look in someone's eyes without wavering too much. Mello started to buy leather clothes, he punched some jerks right in the face, he had his knuckles ruined for weeks but he didn't say anything about it. Matt knew he had seen them bulling him. Matt got stronger so that Mello's hands wouldn't be ruined any more. Still between them, under the words and the jokes and the cigarettes Matt started to smoke, there was still the feeling of that rainy afternoon.

 

It was instead a sleepy late summer afternoon when Matt realized something was wrong with him. Years had passed from that November day, they were twelve and he had started to feel safe. To feel safe, at Whammy's, with Mello. He talked more, he laughed more. He knew he due it to Mello. But then something went too far, and he slowly slipped on the glittery surface of his adoration for the blond. Matt knew there was something definitely wrong when he started to dream about things he shouldn't. The crucifix hanging over the sleeping blond always reminding him of how wrong what was happening between his legs and in his mind was. Matt was confused again, like that November afternoon standing at the door, the pen scribbling filling the air.

Mello noticed the distance growing, but he didn't say anything. He spent his nights turning again and again the image of Matt's uncertain smiles in his mind, among cracked prayers. Mello was not a genius for nothing. It was a sleepy late summer afternoon when he realized that something should be done. Matt wasn't in the room. Mello had been thinking of him more than the usual and something both pleasant and unpleasant had begun to stir between his belly and his groin. Mello thought his leather pants were in the way. He just kicked them aside and laid there, something aching. Mello felt stupid for the first time in his life.

Matt bit his gloved thumb in front of the door. He wandered if it was the heat to make him feel so dizzy. He pressed his forehead to the wood. Somehow he should have learnt how to deal with confusion but this…this was something so new. This twirling inside of him, this need, the need to hear Mello's shouts, to have his arm around his shoulder after some stupid plan or prank.

Matt opened the door. His eyes grew wider behind the orange of his goggles' lens. Azure orbs wavered in front of him. Matt looked at Mello's pale legs, then at his feet, then at his gloved hands. Mello felt something he couldn't decode building up inside of him.

\- Close the damn door, you idiot!

Matt didn't turn, he just kicked the door. Matt swallowed, feeling his tendons tense up, like strings.

He rubbed the back of his neck. Mello knew that gesture meant Matt was not at ease at all. He jumped off the bed, his bare feet making a light sound over the wood, his pale legs moving fluidly. Matt was almost mesmerized. And terrified, 'cause there was something just so wrong in seeing Mello like that, something that screamed into his head, and somehow he fought against the desire to run his tongue over that skin on the very moment.

Then there were white, pale arms at the sides of his red head.

\- Got any problem, Matt?

Matt felt something liquid in his groin, his boxers becoming too tight and wet. He had never noticed how Mello's lips seemed the ones of one of those models they could see on television. Matt looked at Mello's white teeth chewing a bit at that pink flash.

\- N-not at all Mello…

Matt remembered that November day, the way Mello's blond head was hovering over him.

\- Good then. But I think we have a problem here.

Matt fought for air as Mello grinded their hips together, as he felt the bulge in Mello's boxers brushing over his tight.

\- God! Mello!

\- Shh! What have I taught you, Matt?

Mello pressed against Matt's need harder.

\- I..

\- I taught you not to tell His name lightly, Matt.

Matt was not scared any more. It was like that with Mello. At the beginning he feared the unknown inside of the little blond and then, then the unknown itself seemed to slip inside him, and the fear was no where to be seen, 'cause it was Mello, only Mello, always Mello.

Matt could feel Mello's body following the lines of his own. Mello's lips were soft, and Matt knew his thoughts were lost somewhere in the heat that was rushing inside of him. He bit Mello's lips and he knew a harder bite would have come. He moaned as he felt Mello's teeth.

Mello's lips were still brushing over his own as the blond spoke.

\- You know? You sure have changed, Matt.

Matt shivered as Mello passed his tongue over his lips.

\- But to me there still something of the idiot boy of that afternoon.

Matt shut his mind closed the moment Mello's fingers tangled in his hair.

They sat on the bed looking at each other. Matt had begun to pull off his gloves but Mello grabbed his wrist.

\- Keep them on.

Matt knew the few remains of his bubble were bursting under the sharp gaze Mello gave him, under the heat radiating from his pale skin.

\- Mello I…

Mello's finger was fresh over his lips. And Matt let Mello guide him.

He looked at the pale fingers sliding inside his boxers. He looked at his own gloved hand as Mello guided it. He looked at Mello's elegant fingers around his cock. He looked at his own gloved hand around Mello's. His long, pale legs were opened in front of him. Matt shyly traced circles on that skin with his free hand. Mello shifted closer. Matt caught the image of the crucifix over them, Mello grinned.

\- Go ahead, Matt.

Matt slowly moved his hand along Mello's length, the sound of his glove getting slippery rumbled in his ears. Matt felt his heart imploding as Mello increased his speed.

\- Me…

-Shh.

That's how Matt came over the pale hand of his best friend, and trickles of white ran down Matt's glove.

They remained silent, sitting in front of each other, panting. The soft light of the evening rolled into the room, splashed on the mattress between them. Mello's voice was low.

\- It was a rainy day. It was a Sunday.

\- Uh?

Matt lifted his goggles.

\- The day you arrived, you idiot!

Mello leaned against the wall.

Matt decided not to think to much and just leaned forward, till his head was on Mello's belly. The blond remained silent.

Matt focused on the fabric of Mello's t-shirt.

\- Wasn't that…wrong for Him?

Matt felt Mello's body trembling as he laughed.

\- Was it good?

Matt's cheeks reddened.

\- It was.

\- Then it's alright!

Matt lifted his gaze and met Mello's half smile. He felt like if water was pouring on him. He smiled back.

It was a late summer evening. Matt can't remember the day, but he remembers the light. It was a warm light, it was his and Mello's light. It was the first of many steps over their own slippery surface.

 

 

Matt smiles at the thought, blowing out the smoke of his morning cigarette. He thinks of the little boy Mello was back then and lets his eyes get lost along the line of the naked spine of the blond who's sleeping next to him.


End file.
